Employee of the Month
by ShiraNation
Summary: Comedy/Romance - Emily's tired of working at Fitch Fitness but needs a summer job to help pay for college. What happens when she takes a job opportunity Supermart with the least conventional staff she's ever met? Or when a beautiful blonde captures her attention by happening to consistently be Employee of the Month?
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys. I just managed to overcome some major writer's block and thought of a new story. I'm off for four weeks so hopefully I'll get further on this one. I've got some ideas in this mind of mine. Have a go and let me hear your thoughts.**

_ Ugh, what's that smell? _Emily felt slightly dizzy as the overwhelming smell of lemon Lysol pervaded her button nose. _The ratio of cleaning chemical to surface area has got to be unhealthily disproportionate. _Emily stepped into the small office that had been haunting her in her dreams. This was technically going to be her first job interview, not to be confused with her first job. She had spent the last few summers working at Fitch Fitness, her dad's gym, but this summer she wanted a change in atmosphere... and to not have to deal with her dad at home _and _at work. Emily psyched herself up, _think of the minimum wage! _True, she was being sarcastic, but money was money and college would not pay for itself.

She looked around the room, until her eyes settled on a desk toward the back. She nervously approached the front of it. The woman sitting behind it looked up from her desktop. "Can I help you?" From her voice alone, Emily could tell this was going to be unpleasant; it was dripping with displeasure, similar to what you would expect from a government worker. However, this was no government, nope. This was Supermart, "The supermarket where the service and supplies aren't just good, they're super!" Emily already feigned her much practiced in the mirror "so-happy-to-work-here" smile. "Hi, I have a job interview for," Emily looked at her watch, "two-o'clock." _Punctual, as always. _She was ten minutes early.

Emily read the woman's nametag: _Harriet. _Harriet looked past Emily to the clock on the wall. "You're early," she stated. "Hmm..." She squinted at Emily, obviously gathering a judgment. Perhaps it was Emily's bright red hair that caused Harriet to conclude her open observation with a scoff. Emily had dyed her hair the boldest shade of red a few months ago and therefore was very used to gawking. However, for the sake of her work potential, she reserved her retort for internal relief. _Yeah? Well you can go fuck yourself. I love my hair._

After several awkward seconds of a silent stare-off, Harriet resigned and punched the keys individually into her computer. Her process was taking forever. It was frustrating for Emily to stand there when she could have easily typed whatever it was the lady needed to, in mere seconds. _What the hell is someone technologically incompatible doing as a secretary for a corporate business? _Harriet interupted her baffled train of thought with a straight-forward question: "Last name?" _Not even a please. God._

"Emily Fitch."

Harriest looked up from her keyboard momentarily, disgruntled. "I _only _needed your last name."

"Fitch," Emily repeated.

"Yeah, I know."

Emily shifted uncomfortably on her feet. She desperately needed the summer job but she did not know if she could tolerate more employees with the same indifferent, rude attitude as this secretary, for more than a day.

"You can sit now," the lady said without looking up to acknowledge Emily.

Emily looked around the room. There was a set of rusting stacked red lockers lined up against one wall, a few seats on either side of a door that read "Manager," and a corkboard with employee of the month on another wall. Emily approached the corkboard for a closer look. "May 2013 - Naomi Campbell." _Wow. She's beautiful. _She studied the girl's headshot: shoulder-length platinum blonde hair, bright white teeth in a customer-friendly smile, gorgeous pale blue eyes, straight nose, and pale white skin. Emily immediately felt a intimidated by Naomi, even though she had not the slightest clue of the girl's disposition. All she knew was that the girl was a high-achiever because to the right of the corkboard was a chart: "_Employee of the Month: January 2013 - Naomi Campbell; February 2013 - Naomi Campbell; March 2013 - Naomi Campbell; April 2013 - Naomi Campbell; May 2013 - Naomi Campbell."_

Eventually, Emily took a seat in one of the chairs she had noticed earlier, beside the manager's door. About twenty minutes after her interview had been scheduled for, the door opened. A scruffy looking man, seming to be about in his early 40s, poked his head out. "How we doing Harriet?" Emily noticed he was wearing a green polo and khaki pants, the employee uniform with the addition of an oversized-blazer and some coffee-stains.

"Just peachy," she mumbled. "Someone's here to see you." Harriet nodded pointedly in Emily's direction.

Emily stood up and tried to shrug off any further frustration that only just now the secretary was informing the manager of her arrival. _I thought that's what you were typing into the computer, Goddamn it. Now what if he thinks I was late?_

"Ah, another teenage lass. What a surprise," he said sarcastically. "Well, come on in then, let's get this rubbish over with..." He leaned against the door for Emily to step inside. Much like the manager's self-presentation, his office was messy and unorganized; papers and files were stacked over all available surface area of the wooden desk. "So what can I do for you, madame?" He sat down opposite Emily in a squeaky wheelie chair.

"I, uh, came here for a job interview."

"Is that so? You must be..." he looked at his computer than back at the redhead, "Emily then."

"Yeah."

"Right. I suppose I should ask you some err questions then. What's your favorite kind of dog?" The man held a clipboard in his lap and a dangled a pen between his fingers.

"Sorry?" Emily almost laughed out of nervousness. She had expected questions along the lines of her work experience and leadership and teamwork qualities, nothing as trivial as her favorite kind of dog. Besides her family had forbade the idea of even allowing a pet enter their home with her mother's unfortunate allergies to furry creatures.

"No favorite dog then." He looked at a picture on his desk. Emily noticed it was of him and what she thought was a chihauhau puppy. He scribbled something on his clipboard. "Cat person then?"

"Um, no. My, uh, parents never allowed pets. My mum has allergies."

"What a fookin' shame." Emily was shocked that he just swore in front of her. Clearly the lack of professionalism in this workplace was not the biggest of deals. Then again, he _was _the manager, which meant he could probably get away with anything. He scribbled some more on his clipboard._ What the hell could you possibly be writing? _"Favorite music artist?"

"Ellie Goulding."

"Never heard of her." He scribbled some more.

"Really? She's quite popular."

"If you can't tell, popular ain't quite my thing." He stroked his beard thoughtfully. "But I suppose once you start working here the people here might broaden your taste a bit beyond the top forty." He scribbled down some more once again.

"So wait, I've got the job?" Emily asked cautiously but excitedly.

"Of course you fookin' have. Anyone who applies can work here." He shrugged.

"Wait, wait, wait. So then what was the point of this interview?"

"Nonsense bureaucratic formalities, I suppose. All a bunch of blarmy if you ask me but I just work here," he chuckled. "And by work, I mean the very loose interpretation of the word."

"So then what exactly have you been writing this whole time?"

"Writing? Pshh, not a chance, Emily." He turned his clipboard around to show Emily. "It's a t-rex holding a gun to his head saying 'I'd rather be extinct than work at Supermart.' Fridge-worthy, ain't it?" He chuckled.

"Absolutely." Emily's laughed with him.

"And on that flattering note, you're hired. I'm Kieran MacFoeinaiugh, by the way, but you can call me Kieran. Mr. Kieran when I'm walking around with the suits though. They're all about position acknowledgment yadda, yadda, but I think there's more to respect than formality."

And in that moment, Emily knew she was probably going to like her job, even if the secretary was a bitch. "When do I start?"

Kieran answered, "Eager, are we?"

"I just prefer work to being at home," Emily confessed with a hint of sadness.

"I see, I see. Family can be a right kick in the balls," he leaned in slightly to and whispered, "just don't tell mine I said that." Kieran stood up and opened his door. "You can start tomorrow, Emily. Day shift good for starters?"

"Yeah, sounds great. Thank you Mr. MacFo-I mean, Kieran."

"Sorted. See ya later then."

***shifts nervously* So... what do you think?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks so much for the follows and reviews you guys. **

Emily awoke in a surprisingly cheerful mood for the first time in a several weeks. She had a good feeling about today, her first day at work. She got dressed in one of the two uniforms Kieran had given her just before she left yesterday. For breakfast she quickly ate a banana and rushed out the door. Her 2003 Toyota creaked as she opened the driver's door and climbed in. _I hate this rusty piece of metal waste. _Every time she stopped, the breaks screeched, and then the acceleration took forever and jumped sometimes. She had decided ages ago, that among the money she was going to earn, half would go to college and half would go toward a new vehicle. Emily did not know exactly what she wanted to drive, but she figured she would know once she saw it.

Emily plugged her ipod in and turned up the volume. Maroon 5's "Payphone" erupted from the car speakers. After a couple of stoplights she was passionately singing along to Lady Gaga's "Born this Way." It took her a moment to notice the girl in the lane beside her was blatantly staring at her while they awaited a green light.

"You've got to be fucking shitting me,"Emily mouthed to herself. In the blue Prius next to her was the girl from work that she hadn't even met yet... Naomi! _Oh my god. She's going to think I'm such a dork. _Emily immediately turned down her music and shrugged shyly in Naomi's direction. The blonde's only response was an eyeroll before quickly driving off as the light changed. _How fucking embarrassing. _

Three miles later Emily arrived at Supermart. She drove around to the back carlot, parking as far away from the blue Prius as possible, which meant quite a trek to the back entrance. For a day that was supposed to turn out perfect, it was certainly beginning to deviate. The backdoor was heavy and slightly stuck but after working at her Dad's gym, she had gained a significant amount of muscle for a girl her age, and managed to pull it open. She did not realize the door opened into the small office she had been in yesterday. It was no surprise to see Harriet already glaring at her upon entry. "Hi," said Emily, attempting to break Harriet's dispositional barrier.

"You can put your belongings in locker 16 if you have any."

"I don't, but thanks."

"Come here, Fitch."

Emily approached the desk cautiously.

"Here is your name tag." Instead of handing it directly to Emily, she placed it on the top of her desk an slid it in Emily's direction. It was a blue piece of plastic with bold white lettering: _Emily. _Emily unclipped the pin and put it on the left side of her shirt.

"Great," said Harriet flatly. "Cook will be in here shortly to show you how things work around here."

Emily sat down and waited patiently for her guide to arrive. Five minutes later, an employee burst into the office. He had sandy brown hair, a jagged toothy smile, and blue eyes. He was sliding a pack of fags into his rear pocket when his eyes met Emily's. "'Aven't I seen you before?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Naw, naw, man, I think I did." He winked cheekily.

_Oh fuck. Not another one of these douchebags. Fucking Katie and her open legs. _"I think you have me confused with my sister."

"What's her name?"

"Katie." Emily sighed.

"Oh, yes, fook yes! Katiekins! So you're her twinny then, yeah?"

"Yeah," Emily said flatly. Harriet was quietly observing the whole interaction. Cook was loud and obnoxious and Emily was quite the opposite. But Cook had been working there for years and Emily was a newbie; she had to earn her respect, concluded Harriet.

"Love me a twin thing, if you know what I mean." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

_Fuck. Must I spend a whole day in training with this guy? _Emily made somewhat of a disgusted face.

"Oi! I'm only joking. No need to frown, yeah? What's your name, girly?" He stepped further into the room near Emily - an appropriate distance for conversation, unlike before, shouting across the room.

"I'm Emily."

"Pleasure, Emily. I'm Cook, but _you _can call me just about anything."

Emily ignored his proposition. "So, Cook, are you going to show me around?"

"'Ard worker, are ya? Right on, Emily, right on." He began the tour by showing her the punch cards on the wall and how to check in and out of her shift. They then exited the office and headed through the dispersed early rising shoppers toward the front of the supermarket. "This guy here is the greeter and security guard." Cook wrapped his arm around the shoulder of a black man with a bright white smile.

"Hello, I'm Thomas, so pleased to meet you," he held out his hand for Emily to shake.

Emily could tell he was genuinely a very kind person. "I'm Emily, nice to meet you too."

"This guy makes sure e'rryone that enters the store is a member and that no nutters get in. Another good thing to note is that if you're ever lookin to get into the nightclub on Santa Monica, The Pulse, then he's your go to guy. He works as a bouncer there instead of the shitty night shifts 'ere. Ain't that right, Thomas?"

"Absolutely. But I must get back to work, Cook. I hope to get to know you more later, Emily."

"Me too." Emily smiled. _What a sweetheart._

"This way, Emily." Cook led them in the direction of the back of the store now.

Cook spent the rest of the day guiding her around and meeting various people. He showed her how to use the price tagger, price checker, computer system, and anything else she would need during her employment. He showed her where he worked, the loading dock. There she met a lanky, olive-skinned guy with longish black hair, named Freddie. Emily could totally tell Freddie had been smoking a joint just before they were introduced to each other.

Cook also showed her the business department of the store, where JJ, a curly-haired, nerdy looking boy, (but an absolute sweetheart like Thomas), worked as a finance intern.

Lastly, Cook showed her every shopper's final destination within the store - where the cashiers and baggers worked. Emily's prayers had been answered when Cook had chosen _not _to introduce her to Naomi; she looked far too busy. Emily could not help but admire the look of determination on the Naomi's face as she scanned groceries and household products at swift pace with such grace. _For Christ's sake, you don't even know the girl and you're already eating that shit up like it's your favorite pastry. Snap out of it Emily._

"Think you'll be okay if I leave ya in charge of produce restocking?"

"Yeah, for sure."

"Cool. Just 'oller on your walkie-talkie like I showed ya, if ya need some help."

"Thank you, Cook." Even if almost every five minutes he had made some major attempt at making plans for what he called "willy-waggling," with her, he had been extremely helpful.

Cook departed and Emily headed into the produce storage. She grabbed one of the carts and filled it with crates of bananas before heading back into the store. Bunch by bunch she stacked the bananas into a pyramid, putting the ripe ones closer to the top, only nearly toppling them once or twice. When she was through she did the same for the apples, cucumbers, and avocados. She was definitely in her own little world, humming away to the music playing over the store speakers just barely loud enough to be audible, while working. She started stocking the lettuce next, when suddenly an alarm overhead the vegetables sounded and water started showering the shelves. Emily had been leaned in to stock and ended up getting rather wet.

_Fucking fuck... and on the first day, too. _She looked down at her damp shirt. _At least it's not see-through now. _Emily shivered; the water was certainly not heated. With perfect timing, Cook appeared just as she was trying to separate her shirt from clinging to the frame of her bra. "Oh, Emily, I know that Cook always get's the ladies wet, but this is just something else," he said, referring to himself in third-person. Cook chuckled at Emily's pouting face.

"Very funny," she said.

"Let this be a lesson to ya, girly, always bring a spare pair of clothing. That's why they give ya _two _uniforms. Neva' know what kind of disaster will strike. I know this guy named Perry that used to work here... he lost a sleeve to the melon slicer..."

"Oh my fucking god, thank goodness he's okay."

Cook smiled devilishly. "Actually, he's Perry the Pirate now, hook and all."

"That's just sadistic."

"Oi! I thought it was pretty cleva'."

"Did you think of it?"

"I might of," he shrugged nonchalantly.

"You're quite the wanker, Cook," Emily said, but she meant it in a playful friendly way.

"I try."

"So... what do I do about this today?" Emily looked down questioningly at her wet shirt.

"Well, you could leave it...I reckon you can pull off the wet t-shirt shindig."

"Cook..."

"Alright, alright. Locker 20; I've got a spare. It'll be big on ya, but I don't think anyone here will give 'alf a fook, let alone a whole fook."

"Thanks, Cook."

"No problem, darling. Just don't go tellin' peoples I was nice to ya, can't afford to ruin my reputation, y'know?"

"My lips are sealed." Emily motioned zipping her lips shut and headed in the direction of the staffroom. "See ya later, Cook."

"See ya, babes."

Emily easily found the spare shirt in the unlocked locker. She slipped it over her head, feeling tiny as it rested baggily over her shoulders. She had not heard the door open and close.

"Real classy," someone snorted.

Emily looked up and was displeased to see she had managed to make yet another poor impression on the Employee of the Month. "What, no, I just-" Emily stuttered.

"Don't care, really," interrupted a very disinterested Naomi.

_Oh my god. What a bitch. _"You cared enough to make an initial assumption."

"Yeah, and now you're just wasting my time..." blue eyes shifted to her nametag," If you don't mind, you're blocking my locker, Emily."

Emily awkwardly shuffled out of the way, feeling a bit defeated. _Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry. Why are girls so mean? _"Err, sorry." She watched as the blonde opened her locker and pulled out a brown paper bag. Naomi was turning away to exit when she suddenly turned on her feet to face Emily.

"Look... Emily. It's nothing personal. It's just this rule I have. No friends on the clock, okay?" Her once cold eyes softened up a bit when she realized Emily must be having an awful day.

"Yeah, okay." Emily's voice came out huskier than normal, like it did just before she was about to cry. She had spoken as casually as possible, as though she could contain her emotions. But honestly, the day had been tough and exhausting thus far. Most people that worked at Supermart did not genuinely care to hear what she had to say unlike the people that worked at her father's gym. She looked downward to mask her feelings.

Emily heard Naomi awkwardly clear her throat. "First days are always the worst, don't let it get to you." And with that final motivational comment, the blonde quickly departed the office.

_What is it with the personalities of the people that work here?_

The rest of the day went on all right. Emily managed to finish stocking the produce just in time to put everything that was not sold away in the refrigerators. By the time she was through and she had returned to the staffroom, her shirt was dry. She gave Cook back his uniform shirt and said her goodbyes to him and the rest she had become just barely acquaintances with. On her way out to her car she noticed Naomi was standing a few steps ahead of Emily, smoking a fag. Naomi had not been a part of the group clocking out of their shifts. Instead she had left a few minutes earlier.

"Hey."

Naomi exhaled the smoke. "Hey."

"It's off the clock now." Emily remembered, _she doesn't make friends on the clock._

"Yeah, so?"

"So I thought, maybe since you were so nice we could be friends?" _You sound desperate. Fuck it, you are. You don't have any friends outside of work that don't belong to Katie anyway._

"Oh please, what I said was the equivalent of a Hallmark card at a funeral, general as fuck and probably useless."

"It wasn't useless, it helped."

"Listen, Emily. Don't take this personally," she repeated from before, "I'm just not interested." Naomi put out her fag and started walking to her car quickly. She was clearly aware that she had leg length to her advantage; for every step she took, the shorter Emily had to take two.

"All I did was suggest a friendship? What are you so afraid of?" Emily asked curiously.

"Who said I was afraid of anything? You don't even know me." Naomi slammed her car door shut and started to drive away, leaving Emily alone in the dark. She thought it was preposterous that some girl that did not even know the slightest thing about her had such determination to be her friend. It was only the girl's first day for fuck's sake. She needs to get her priorities straight, thought Naomi.

"I want to get to know you." Emily whispered to herself.

**Does anyone have any store work experience? Do enlighten me with any interesting stories. Let me know what you thought of the progression/characters/anything else you please. Thanks guys. :)**


End file.
